Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Chapter 15.

I cursed and turned away from the wall-length mirror. My reflection looked back at

like a goddamn monster. Veins bulging. Eyes bloodshot. Chest rising fast, every breath worse than the last.

"You can’t do this," I growled. "You have to stop. You have to stop."

"Fuck," I breathed, head tipping back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. I didn’t even try to pretend.

My chest was heaving. My cock was throbbing. There was no blood in my brain anymore—it was all between my legs, feeding the ache, feeding the monster I’d been holding back all goddamn night.

And it wasn’t just hard.

It was savage.

Twenty full inches of veined, pulsing, unforgivable need..curving up from my groin like it wanted to destroy sothing. The head was fat, flushed red, already wet. Precum spilled from the slit in thick, milky ropes, coating the tip like it was drooling for her.

My pants were open before I even realized I’d moved. My cock sprung free with a heavy slap against my abs. The weight of it thudded down like a weapon. It curved to the side, long and thick and covered in veins that pulsed with every ragged breath I took.

"God fucking," I growled, wrapping one big hand around the base and still barely covering half of it. The shaft was thick as my forearm. I squeezed..hard..my grip barely fitting, my skin slicking instantly with the precum already leaking down.

I dragged my fist up.

My cock twitched, jerking in my grip like it had a mind of its own. My balls were tight. Heavy. Already aching. I hadn’t touched myself in days..not since that night I caught her in a towel, tits bouncing, eyes wide like she’d seen the devil.

And she had.

I was her devil.

And right now?

I wanted to fuck her like one.

I leaned back against the wall, spreading my legs, stroking slowly. My breath stuttered. My hips rocked forward like my body needed it, begged for more. Every slide of my hand pulled another string of precum from the tip, slicking my fist, soaking my cock like her pussy should’ve.

I growled.

Deep.

Low.

Like a beast.

"Little fucking slut," I hissed, gripping the head tight, dragging my thumb around the edge until it pulsed violently in my palm. "You wanted

to see you, didn’t you? Standing there in that tight little robe, dripping like a bitch in heat."

I jerked my hand faster.

The wet slap of skin echoed in the silence.

Slick.

Hard.

Obscene.

I spat in my hand and kept going. Fisting my cock with both hands now. One at the base. The other working the shaft. The thick length of it glead in the dim light, flushed and angry, the head dark purple and spitting precum down my abs in sticky trails.

I tipped my head back.

Groaned.

Then pictured her.

On her knees.

Mouth open.

Tears running down her cheeks as she tried to fit the head between her lips and couldn’t.

"Fucking gag on it," I growled. "You’d cry the second I made you lick it. You’d choke. Your throat would stretch, and I still wouldn’t stop."

I gripped tighter. Stroked harder. My hips bucked into my fists like I was already buried in her mouth.

"Take it, baby," I snarled, imagining my voice in her ear. "You want to be a big girl? Open that throat. Cry for it."

I was fucking gone.

Jerking this twenty-inch cock like it needed vengeance. Like it was punishing

for not fucking her when I had the chance. My balls slapped against my thighs with every thrust of my hips, my hands working up and down the thick shaft like I needed to milk it.

I grunted.

Panted.

Sweat dripped from my chest. My abs flexed. My whole body tensed.

Because I was close.

So fucking close.

And she was all I could see.

Lyra. Bent over my bed. Ass spread. Pussy twitching. Begging

to stop and still begging for more. Her cunt leaking. Her belly swelling. Her lips bruised from being fucked too long.

"Beg for it," I groaned. "Beg

to fill you. To knot you. To ruin you."

I stroked faster.

Sloppier.

Precum sprayed with every drag of my palm. The head was drenched. The veins looked like they were ready to burst. My cock was a weapon—and I was using it like one.

"Tell

you want Daddy’s cock," I snarled, every muscle in my body ready to explode. "Tell

you want this monster to stretch your tight little cunt open until you scream."

And just like that..

I lost it.

I roared.

Loud. Wild. Animal.

I ca.

Thick. Violent. Endless.

White ropes of cum shot from the tip, painting my abs. The first spurt hit my chest. The second sprayed my hand. The third hit the fucking floor with a slap.

It kept coming.

And coming.

So much cum it dripped from my fingers, thick and sticky, sliding down the veins of my cock like it belonged there.

I stumbled back.

Still stroking.

Still twitching.

Still imagining her lying underneath , wide-eyed and ruined, crying my na while I emptied everything inside her.

I looked down at the ss.

At my swollen cock.

Still fucking hard.

Still not satisfied.

"I have to fight this urge" I whispered. "I can’t."

But I knew I would.

Maybe not tonight.

Maybe not tomorrow.

But soon?

Soon, I’m going to fuck her.

I’m going to split her open with this twenty-inch cock and watch her shatter.

She’ll cry.

She’ll scream.

She’ll beg

to stop and I won’t.

Because no matter how many tis I try to fight it...

I’m going to fuck her.

And when I do?

There’ll be no turning back.